Stretching in Love
07/15/07
Pentecost 7
Luke 10: 25-37
Dear friends in Christ,
I just read for you probably the best known parable in all of the Bible, commonly called the parable of the Good Samaritan. It’s so familiar that it has become part of our English way of speaking, a way to refer to an act of kindness that it is assumed everyone will understand when it is said. Just last Thursday a headline in the paper referred to a very sad and tragic case, where a Good Samaritan, the words used in the headline, was killed last February when he tried to intervene in a fight taking place. The article was about the sentencing of those involved. I have a good friend whose father originally named his tire business “Samaritan Tire Company,” a good name for a business that helps people with roadside emergencies.
One of the reasons I think the parable is so beloved is that on one level its meaning is so clear. This is a story that is very easy to act out with children as young as preschool, something I do every year as part of All God’s Children preschool chapel. One child pretends to be hurt along the road. Two pass by him because they’re in a hurry, a third stops to help and take care of his injuries. Even preschoolers get the message. Be like the one who helps. Be like the Samaritan. Care for others in need. That’s what God wants us to do.
And this is something that the Christian church, in its many expressions, has generally done well. It’s a core moral value, basic to our identity, to care for others. Hospitals were first started by churches. Orphanages were run by churches. Most homeless shelters like Caring and Sharing Hands and the Union Gospel Mission are run and supported by churches. Schools and universities were begun by churches. I recently read that there is only one social service agency still working in New York City with families recovering from the 9/11 attacks, our own Lutheran Disaster Response. That’s part of the philosophy, to be there for the long haul when disaster hits. The best relief work done in New Orleans has been done by people associated with Christian churches.
Close to home I’m always glad to hear how people in this congregation support neighbors and friends when there is a time of need. Cars and meals and prayers mean a great deal at those times. In this parable we often rightly focus on this Good Samaritan as a reminder that we are to be like him, stopping to help, setting aside our agenda, when we learn of someone in need.
But this morning I want to push this parable further, take it a little deeper. On one level, it is about caring for others. We’ve learned that well. We need to be reminded to do so. But I think there’s another level to this story we ought not overlook. To get at that level, we need to consider the man to whom Jesus directs this parable, identified as a lawyer. In this encounter, what is Jesus telling him? What then, does that mean for us? That’s what I’d like us to think about today.
The lesson begins, “A lawyer stood up to test Jesus.” A lawyer, or course, is trained in the law. Lawyers know the law. That’s their profession. That’s their meal ticket. In Israel, at this time, this would certainly have included knowing the Jewish law as well as the civil laws governing the people.
This lawyer wasn’t really searching for God or for answers to eternal questions. He was testing Jesus, this young rabbi that was making such an impact. So he asks the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life,” already fully aware of what the law says. It’s kind of a throwaway question. He knew the answer, and he figured Jesus knew the answer as well. Jesus tosses it back at him and asks, “What is written in the law?” The lawyer knows and responds with the well known words, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” “Right,” says Jesus, “Do this and you shall live.”
But then the lawyer does what lawyers do. He asks a follow-up question. He wants this further clarified. He wants more detail. He wants a more specific definition. So he asks, “And who is my neighbor?”
What the lawyer really wants to do is to set limits around who he needs to love and care for. What’s the least amount of caring he can get by with, and still inherit the kingdom of God? He’s trying to reduce, narrow down, and limit his responsibility. OK, just who is my neighbor?
Further, he’s trying to focus the attention on the worthiness of the one that might need care or assistance, rather than on himself, the one called to care. He wants to make the issue about the other person, their life, their faults, their goodness, rather than his own heart. He wants to be able to justify his actions based on something about the other person. Is this person worthy of my time and attention, or not?
Well, it is to this attitude of the heart that Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan. A man, presumably Jewish, is beaten by robbers and left for dead. Two Jewish religious leaders pass by, first a priest and then later a Levite. Neither stops to help. Jesus could have then said a Jewish lay person, however, stopped by the road, bandaged him, and cared for him. This would have made the point that the lay person was more righteous than the priest and Levite in caring for the wounded man. Every Jew is to stop and care for their fellow Jew, would have been the point in that case. That point of view would have probably been acceptable to the lawyer, something he could live with. He was to love and care for his neighbor, defined as his fellow Jews.
But that’s not what Jesus said. He said a Samaritan, a non-Jew, was the one who stopped and cared for the wounded man. He crossed a significant racial and cultural barrier to make sure this wounded man received the help he needed. This parable wasn’t just about one person of the same ethnic group caring for another in the group. This was about going way beyond that, one human being, regardless of race or heritage, caring for another. “Who is my neighbor?” asked the lawyer, hoping to set limits on who he needed to care about. “I’ll tell you,” says Jesus, “It is the Samaritan, who crossed ethnic boundaries, who didn’t ask if the injured person was worthy, but just acted on his behalf.” It is the one whose love knew no limits, the one who showed mercy from his heart, that is the model to follow.
Jesus was really trying to make the lawyer, and us, think differently about our service to others. Too often, we think like the lawyer, what’s the least I can get by with, and still make it in the kingdom. What’s the minimum I can do to help out? I hear this all the time when it comes to money and offerings. Whenever I, or any leader, talk about the Biblical benchmark of giving a tithe, or 10% of our income in offering to God through our church, people immediately begin to get uncomfortable. Questions start coming. Should I tithe on my gross income, or net income? Or, I support my college alumni fund and some other worthy organizations, so I can’t possibly give a tithe to the church in offerings. Excuses and rationalizations are made. I give my time to the church, so I don’t need to give any money. Behind all of these kind of comments lies the lawyer’s attitude. How can I minimize my responsibility to this Christian community? How can I whittle this down to a size I can handle comfortably?
My response to that really comes from the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Samaritan never asked, what’s the least I can do here? He could of easily justified not stopping, since Samaritans had no dealings at all with Jews. But he didn’t do that. His attitude was, what’s the most I can do? And he acted on that attitude. He did the most possible, bandaging the injured man’s wounds, taking him to the inn, staying the night, and even giving the innkeeper money to continue caring for this wounded man. It wasn’t about doing the least, it was about doing the most! When it comes to our giving, it’s not about percentages or gross income vs. net income, or the giving of time vs. the giving of money. The only real question is, am I doing the most I can do. If you can honestly answer yes, then you are modeling the example of the Good Samaritan.
I really believe that Jesus tells this parable to the lawyer, to stretch his entire way of thinking. He wants to minimize his responsibility to his neighbor, and Jesus wants to push him outside of what is comfortable for him. He wants to manage his love and care for those he chooses and is comfortable with. Jesus wants to push him across his comfortable boundaries to love and care for anyone in need.
A wise man once said, “Sometimes we need to geographically relocate in order to get outside of ourselves.” That’s one of the great truths you experience on any mission trip that leads to some cross cultural experience. You may see things and experience things that take you outside your comfort zone. But in doing that, you begin to grasp what is being taught in this parable. God wants us to love and care for our neighbor, no matter who they are or in what situation they live. Don’t minimize care, maximize it. Don’t stay where it’s always comfortable and controlled. Step out in faith, and learn to love others that may be very different from yourself.
The parable of the Good Samaritan is very much about caring for others. Thank you for the many ways you do that. But it’s much more than that. It’s about stretching your compassion. It’s about stretching your service. It’s about thinking differently about others, reaching out rather than closing in. It’s really about love, a love without limits. That’s why Jesus chose a Samaritan to be the one who cared in this parable. It was to show the lawyer, and all of us, that we are called to give and love as generously as possible, tearing down the comfortable barriers we construct. I’m sure this parable made the lawyer quite uncomfortable. Jesus was showing a different way, the way of love. May we also see in the Samaritan this new way of love and, as Jesus commands, “Go and do likewise.” Amen
Luke 10: 25-37
Dear friends in Christ,
I just read for you probably the best known parable in all of the Bible, commonly called the parable of the Good Samaritan. It’s so familiar that it has become part of our English way of speaking, a way to refer to an act of kindness that it is assumed everyone will understand when it is said. Just last Thursday a headline in the paper referred to a very sad and tragic case, where a Good Samaritan, the words used in the headline, was killed last February when he tried to intervene in a fight taking place. The article was about the sentencing of those involved. I have a good friend whose father originally named his tire business “Samaritan Tire Company,” a good name for a business that helps people with roadside emergencies.
One of the reasons I think the parable is so beloved is that on one level its meaning is so clear. This is a story that is very easy to act out with children as young as preschool, something I do every year as part of All God’s Children preschool chapel. One child pretends to be hurt along the road. Two pass by him because they’re in a hurry, a third stops to help and take care of his injuries. Even preschoolers get the message. Be like the one who helps. Be like the Samaritan. Care for others in need. That’s what God wants us to do.
And this is something that the Christian church, in its many expressions, has generally done well. It’s a core moral value, basic to our identity, to care for others. Hospitals were first started by churches. Orphanages were run by churches. Most homeless shelters like Caring and Sharing Hands and the Union Gospel Mission are run and supported by churches. Schools and universities were begun by churches. I recently read that there is only one social service agency still working in New York City with families recovering from the 9/11 attacks, our own Lutheran Disaster Response. That’s part of the philosophy, to be there for the long haul when disaster hits. The best relief work done in New Orleans has been done by people associated with Christian churches.
Close to home I’m always glad to hear how people in this congregation support neighbors and friends when there is a time of need. Cars and meals and prayers mean a great deal at those times. In this parable we often rightly focus on this Good Samaritan as a reminder that we are to be like him, stopping to help, setting aside our agenda, when we learn of someone in need.
But this morning I want to push this parable further, take it a little deeper. On one level, it is about caring for others. We’ve learned that well. We need to be reminded to do so. But I think there’s another level to this story we ought not overlook. To get at that level, we need to consider the man to whom Jesus directs this parable, identified as a lawyer. In this encounter, what is Jesus telling him? What then, does that mean for us? That’s what I’d like us to think about today.
The lesson begins, “A lawyer stood up to test Jesus.” A lawyer, or course, is trained in the law. Lawyers know the law. That’s their profession. That’s their meal ticket. In Israel, at this time, this would certainly have included knowing the Jewish law as well as the civil laws governing the people.
This lawyer wasn’t really searching for God or for answers to eternal questions. He was testing Jesus, this young rabbi that was making such an impact. So he asks the question, “What must I do to inherit eternal life,” already fully aware of what the law says. It’s kind of a throwaway question. He knew the answer, and he figured Jesus knew the answer as well. Jesus tosses it back at him and asks, “What is written in the law?” The lawyer knows and responds with the well known words, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, and with all your strength and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” “Right,” says Jesus, “Do this and you shall live.”
But then the lawyer does what lawyers do. He asks a follow-up question. He wants this further clarified. He wants more detail. He wants a more specific definition. So he asks, “And who is my neighbor?”
What the lawyer really wants to do is to set limits around who he needs to love and care for. What’s the least amount of caring he can get by with, and still inherit the kingdom of God? He’s trying to reduce, narrow down, and limit his responsibility. OK, just who is my neighbor?
Further, he’s trying to focus the attention on the worthiness of the one that might need care or assistance, rather than on himself, the one called to care. He wants to make the issue about the other person, their life, their faults, their goodness, rather than his own heart. He wants to be able to justify his actions based on something about the other person. Is this person worthy of my time and attention, or not?
Well, it is to this attitude of the heart that Jesus tells the parable of the Good Samaritan. A man, presumably Jewish, is beaten by robbers and left for dead. Two Jewish religious leaders pass by, first a priest and then later a Levite. Neither stops to help. Jesus could have then said a Jewish lay person, however, stopped by the road, bandaged him, and cared for him. This would have made the point that the lay person was more righteous than the priest and Levite in caring for the wounded man. Every Jew is to stop and care for their fellow Jew, would have been the point in that case. That point of view would have probably been acceptable to the lawyer, something he could live with. He was to love and care for his neighbor, defined as his fellow Jews.
But that’s not what Jesus said. He said a Samaritan, a non-Jew, was the one who stopped and cared for the wounded man. He crossed a significant racial and cultural barrier to make sure this wounded man received the help he needed. This parable wasn’t just about one person of the same ethnic group caring for another in the group. This was about going way beyond that, one human being, regardless of race or heritage, caring for another. “Who is my neighbor?” asked the lawyer, hoping to set limits on who he needed to care about. “I’ll tell you,” says Jesus, “It is the Samaritan, who crossed ethnic boundaries, who didn’t ask if the injured person was worthy, but just acted on his behalf.” It is the one whose love knew no limits, the one who showed mercy from his heart, that is the model to follow.
Jesus was really trying to make the lawyer, and us, think differently about our service to others. Too often, we think like the lawyer, what’s the least I can get by with, and still make it in the kingdom. What’s the minimum I can do to help out? I hear this all the time when it comes to money and offerings. Whenever I, or any leader, talk about the Biblical benchmark of giving a tithe, or 10% of our income in offering to God through our church, people immediately begin to get uncomfortable. Questions start coming. Should I tithe on my gross income, or net income? Or, I support my college alumni fund and some other worthy organizations, so I can’t possibly give a tithe to the church in offerings. Excuses and rationalizations are made. I give my time to the church, so I don’t need to give any money. Behind all of these kind of comments lies the lawyer’s attitude. How can I minimize my responsibility to this Christian community? How can I whittle this down to a size I can handle comfortably?
My response to that really comes from the parable of the Good Samaritan. The Samaritan never asked, what’s the least I can do here? He could of easily justified not stopping, since Samaritans had no dealings at all with Jews. But he didn’t do that. His attitude was, what’s the most I can do? And he acted on that attitude. He did the most possible, bandaging the injured man’s wounds, taking him to the inn, staying the night, and even giving the innkeeper money to continue caring for this wounded man. It wasn’t about doing the least, it was about doing the most! When it comes to our giving, it’s not about percentages or gross income vs. net income, or the giving of time vs. the giving of money. The only real question is, am I doing the most I can do. If you can honestly answer yes, then you are modeling the example of the Good Samaritan.
I really believe that Jesus tells this parable to the lawyer, to stretch his entire way of thinking. He wants to minimize his responsibility to his neighbor, and Jesus wants to push him outside of what is comfortable for him. He wants to manage his love and care for those he chooses and is comfortable with. Jesus wants to push him across his comfortable boundaries to love and care for anyone in need.
A wise man once said, “Sometimes we need to geographically relocate in order to get outside of ourselves.” That’s one of the great truths you experience on any mission trip that leads to some cross cultural experience. You may see things and experience things that take you outside your comfort zone. But in doing that, you begin to grasp what is being taught in this parable. God wants us to love and care for our neighbor, no matter who they are or in what situation they live. Don’t minimize care, maximize it. Don’t stay where it’s always comfortable and controlled. Step out in faith, and learn to love others that may be very different from yourself.
The parable of the Good Samaritan is very much about caring for others. Thank you for the many ways you do that. But it’s much more than that. It’s about stretching your compassion. It’s about stretching your service. It’s about thinking differently about others, reaching out rather than closing in. It’s really about love, a love without limits. That’s why Jesus chose a Samaritan to be the one who cared in this parable. It was to show the lawyer, and all of us, that we are called to give and love as generously as possible, tearing down the comfortable barriers we construct. I’m sure this parable made the lawyer quite uncomfortable. Jesus was showing a different way, the way of love. May we also see in the Samaritan this new way of love and, as Jesus commands, “Go and do likewise.” Amen